


4865 to Los Angeles

by oldmythologies



Series: Miscellaneous Voltron AUs [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Airports, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 05:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12101277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmythologies/pseuds/oldmythologies
Summary: The obligatory "stuck in an airport on Christmas" AU. Allura is thirsty and Shiro has stars in his eyes.





	4865 to Los Angeles

It had to be Christmas. It was always Christmas. In every single movie Allura had ever seen, every bad rom-com she was dragged to by her friends, the entire airport was basically shut down on Christmas. She had dressed to show up in California at the end of a six hour flight, but now she sat shivering in a crowded terminal at JFK in nothing but a thin jacket and skinny jeans. In California, this was overdressed. In New York in winter, she was an insane person.

She stared at the outgoing flight board, watching the estimated departure time for her flight get pushed back later and later.

She pulled out her phone, already attached to her portable charger, and called her dad.

He picked up on the first ring.

“Allura!” he practically yelled, “shouldn’t you be in the air? I thought you were only delayed two hours?”

She sighed. “We’re up to eight hours now. I honestly think they’re shutting down the airport soon.”

“The weather that bad?”

She looked out the window, white snow highlighted by the lights of the building and swirling into the black. “It’s pretty bad.”

It was quiet for a moment as her father thought.

“Alright, I’ll get a hotel for you in the city.”

“Father, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know, you want to be an independent woman, but I know you can’t afford it and we can’t have you sleeping in the airport.”

“Father, I’ll be fine.” she insisted.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he responded, “I can cover it. Merry Christmas, Allura.”

“Father,” she repeated, “I will be fine. I promise.”

He sighed into the speaker. “You’re too much like your mother.”

She smiled, staring out into the blizzard. “Thank you.”

His laugh was distorted by the phone. “Let me know when you know more.”

“Of course, Father. Love you.”

“And I love you.”

Their phone call ended with a click.

She sighed again, shaking her head. Just a whole lot of sighing. Stuck in an airport in a foreign country on Christmas in the middle of a blizzard. Could be worse.

A voice interrupted her reverie.

“Anyone sitting here?” 

She looked up and saw what could very possibly be the most beautiful man in existence, shy smile, dark hair hanging down in front of his silver eyes.  _ For you, sir,  _ she thought,  _ I will make  _ sure  _ no one else is sitting next to me _ .

She checked the seat, and luckily there weren’t any little old ladies for her to fist fight. She smiled.

“Oh, no, it’s free.”

He blinked, turning his head. “Oh, you’re English.”

She forced her laugh to sound like god damn wind chimes and based on his sparkling eyes, he liked it. “On the way to visit my father in California for Christmas.”

He shot her a delighted expression, one that screamed of serendipity and surprise.

“You heading to California too?”

“Yeah! What’s your flight?”

“Delta 4865 to LAX!”

She beamed at him. “Me too! Why are you going to California?”

He looked down, still smiling, and gestured at himself. It was the first time she could pull her eyes off of his face and  _ damn _ . He was shaped like a god damn triangle, and she just  _ knew  _ there would be rock hard abs underneath his uniform.

Oh, and he wore a military uniform. She mostly just wanted to rip it off.

“Heading to Camp Pendleton before I ship out in a couple of weeks.”

“Ooh, a military man! I love men in uniforms.”

_ Was that too much? _ He blushed furiously, but didn’t move away.  _ Oh, just right _ .

Allura wondered how far down that blush went; she tried her best to swallow the thirst.

He laughed awkwardly and adorably, rubbing the back of his neck. “I never understood the appeal.”

She turned toward him in the dumb rubbery airport chair and crossed her legs. “Then why did you join? I didn’t think America had mandatory service?”

He shook his head. “No, of course not. I’m actually in the Air Force. Always wanted to fly.” He shrugged.

“Ooh, so you’re a pilot.”

His smile ran ear to ear. “Yeah. Fighter class.”

She clapped her hands. “That’s so exciting! Tell me all about it.”

Some time in the next few hours, they slid on the floor, leaning against their luggage, watching each other grin and gesture and talk about their every little passion, about their childhoods and their dreams and hopes and the dumb jokes they had seen on TV.

Shiro could watch her talk for hours. She spoke of everything with passion; in another life, she would be an amazing politician. She would start talking with her hands when she got really into a subject, but when she noticed, she’d bring her hands back down until she forgot about being polite once more. 

Allura could stare at him for days. He wore a soft expression and she could see how much he was taking in, just how much he was paying attention, not just to the words, but to her movements and her body language and her face. He was the most attentive listener she’d ever had the pleasure of speaking to.

So wrapped up in each other, they forget to keep checking the flight board. The announcement, “Now boarding Delta flight 4865 to Los Angeles, group one, please proceed to terminal 15A…” shocked them.

“That’s us, isn’t it?”

Shiro pulled out his boarding pass. “I’m group two.”

She frowned. “I didn’t think we’d be even getting on the plane tonight. Group three.”

Shiro stood and extended a hand down to help her up. She accepted gratefully, His hand warm around hers. He basically lifted her with one arm, no strain, and she really really want to touch his biceps. For science.

“Where are you sitting?” he asked.

She looked at her ticket again. “Row 34, aisle.”

He frowned again. “Row 18, window.”

“Of course you would choose the window, my pilot.”

The tops of his ears turned red when he shrugged, fighting the smile.

The speakers rang out once more. “Delta flight 4865 to Los Angeles, now boarding group two…”

He tried to see Allura out of the corner of his eyes, tried not to look too disappointed that they weren’t sitting together, that they weren’t staying there on the floor talking about her favorite TV show or his favorite book or their favorite movies and whatever dumb stuff they could pull out of their asses just to hear each other’s voice.

“I guess this is where I leave you.”

She pouted, rummaging through her bag, before pulling out a receipt and a pen. She scribbled on it for a second. “Here is my phone number,” she handed him the scrap of paper, “and who knows, maybe we’ll have some time at LAX before we have to leave.”

He smiled. “I guess I’ll see you there.”

When he turned away, she opened up her phone to tell her father the plane was boarding, give him the ETA she had promised. As she watched Shiro hand his boarding pass to the attendant, smile in thanks, and disappear into the tunnel, she closed her phone.

Father could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Lol I forgot I wrote this, but god, it was so much fun
> 
> twitter [@oldmythos](https://twitter.com/oldmythos)
> 
> tumblr [@oldmythos](http://oldmythos.tumblr.com)


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